Poetry Thursday. Time
This week's prompt at Poetry Thursday is Time. No further instructions, directions or requests applied, so I'm interpreting it by picking out the first poem from my folder that has a Time Theme. Sorry, but I appear to have a bottomless well of these self-pitying poems. Bear with me. It has to pass, and something else will begin to appear eventually.
The Third Summer
And this one has more sunshine.
I am wearing clothes you’ve never touched.
This one, I am sleeping lightly:
awake to see the stars
slip into turquoise silk and go.
And in the garden when the day is sunny,
no-one but me. –
A thrush, a butterfly,
a pollen-drunk bumble-bee
and me.
There will be more Poetry Thursday poems HERE.
Labels: Poetry Thursday
posted by GreenishLady @ 7:59 pm
9 Comments:
this may still be from "that time" but it shows that mending of the heart is taking place; it shows a glimmer of hope for the future
I love the line... clothes you never touched.
I sometimes still find myself marking time - the before and after, the things he was never part of. It gets better, easier. And then, yes, something else will appear.
I like the images here, the summer just for you.
I am reading so many lovely poems about time today - this one is no exception. I love the succinctness of it, and the first line is really awesome. Really draws the reader in.
Lovely poem, and definitely a hopeful healing one. Time does have a magical power in that way. You seem so at peace in the garden with the bumblebee :)
I don't think this poem comes across as self-pitying at all. Sad and wistful, yes. But it's also beautiful.
A remarkable poem, one containing images from the past, so many natural beauties and hopes for the future too, poignant indeed and lovely. I especially loved :
"awake to see the stars
slip into turquoise silk and go."
"I am wearing clothes you never touched,"
that line, touched my heart. You do have a way with words, Imelda!
I love this, it makes me want to cry - it is very sad, but in an understated way and all the more sad for it. It's not a pity-me poem at all - it's more, much more. It's real and honest.
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